


A (Not At All) Horrible Mistake

by mee4ever



Series: Stiles Stilinski’s Sextraordinary Sexploration [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Bondage, Bottom Derek Hale, Bottom Derek Hale/Top Stiles Stilinski, Butt Plugs, Crying, Dom/sub, Edgeplay, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fucking, Love Confessions, M/M, Mushy, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Rules, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Sequel, Smut, Top Stiles Stilinski, Verbal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 05:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20384113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mee4ever/pseuds/mee4ever
Summary: Stiles says, "I have only tied you to yourself before but with this new bed you've gotten, I can actually tie you to it instead.""I've thought about it," Derek responds after some nudging."Good, and have you liked that thought?"Derek nods."How wonderful, Derek, my sweetest." Stiles smiles against his throat as he groans, then drags both hands around to Derek's back, just letting his fingertips travel along his skin, feeling his muscles. "Then this is my plan."Or the one you've all been waiting for where Stiles edges Derek for eight thousand words.





	A (Not At All) Horrible Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta read.

Stiles doesn’t need to ask why. He _knows. _Because Derek has never complained about his so-called “bed”—a mattress on the floor—or even expressed a want for something different. No, it was _Stiles_ who told Derek that if he wanted to be tied up properly, the least he could do was get a bed frame so they had something to tie him up against. It looks like Derek has taken Stiles’ remark to heart because now Derek has an actual, proper, and pretty bed. And Stiles knows why. 

“That is new,” he says when dropping his bag by the door and Derek emerges from the kitchen. 

“Hm?” Derek says and throws a look over his shoulder like he has _no idea_ what Stiles means. They meet in the middle, Stiles leaning up to kiss him and Derek braids their fingers together, and Stiles nods towards the bed. 

“See, Derek, I _told you_ that you were ready to buy yourself a toy”—Derek does not look amused—”but I didn’t think you’d go for something so _huge—” _

Because Derek is a terrible man, he licks Stiles face to shut him up. And it’s not like a sexy lick, either; it’s a dog-lick like he wants Stiles to drown. Stiles cries out and pushes at his chest, wiping himself off and trying to give Derek his rebuking eyebrows, but Derek just grins at him. Stiles is more than a little upset that Derek doesn’t take him seriously unless at least one of them—usually Derek—is naked. He’s all stoic and muscular and “don’t fuck with me, Stilinski” until he has his ass in the air and Stiles behind him; then, and only then, is he a nice, begging little mess and would probably do anything Stiles told him just to get Stiles’ tongue on him. In those situations, Stiles’ eyebrows are about as talkative as Derek’s, and Derek actually listens to them.

Stiles pokes his tongue at him now, and it has even less effect than the eyebrows. “It looks very nice,” he says anyway. 

“It is very nice,” Derek replies, tugging at Stiles’ hand and Stiles lets him drag him to it. Stiles would’ve thought Derek would go for something rather modern, metal and bars, but the new monstrosity is made of dark brown wood, it looks rustic and old fashioned. It has poles, the two at the bottom are rather short and the two at the top almost double the height to match the headboard. It has a _headboard. _Stiles is pretty confident he knows just how much head that board will see. There’s a swirly pattern going from the middle outwards, deeply chiseled and sometimes even mixed with sliding cuts. It really looks remarkable, but Stiles also looks for functionality. In both aspects: it’s perfect.

Derek wrestles Stiles onto the mattress. Screaming, laughing, Stiles doesn’t fight it too hard and they go down quickly. It seems the mattress is new too, and even if Stiles didn’t exactly hate the old one, this is going to be like sleeping in heaven in comparison.

“Mmm,” he says and snuggles down on the covers. “Comfy.” He closes his eyes and pretends to fall asleep in an instant.

“You like it?” 

Stiles opens one eye. “I _love _it.” 

“And…” 

“And what?” 

Derek shakes his head, ears tinging pink. “You know what, Stiles.” 

“Love the way you say my name.” Derek smiles and hides his face by looking away, so Stiles rolls on top of him and squares him in. “And yes, darling Derek, the bed is perfect for what I’m planning to do to you today.” 

Derek perks up, turning his head slightly to gaze at him. “So, you have planned something?”

“With this bed?” Stiles waves around. “Well, now I have.” 

~~

Derek doesn’t own toys. Still. However, there’s a rather large box with a seriously large collection of them hidden in his closet. Because _Stiles_ owns quite the number of toys and it’s just more convenient to keep them at Derek’s since he uses them almost exclusively here. When he started buying them, he “accidentally” forgot one here and “darn, not again”-forgot one there. It’s such a hassle to bring toys back and forward, anyway, he’d told Derek when Derek had reminded him, and it’s just better if they’re here, ready to be used at any moment. Derek had on the surface agreed reluctantly, but Stiles is about 133% sure Derek doesn't mind it in the slightest. 

Especially so when he says, “I put the box under your side of the bed, at the top.”

Stiles absolutely loves that he has a side in Derek’s bed. “C’mon now, Der, that’s not what it’s called!” 

Derek gives him a plain look. “I am _not_ calling it ‘Stiles’ Fun Box of Magical Orgasms.’”

Stiles smirks mischievously and leans in to kiss him. “Pretty sure you just did, babe.” Derek puts his gigantic hand over Stiles’ face and keeps it there until Stiles has licked it dripping wet. Derek looks at his palm for a second before dragging it over Stiles’ chest.

“Man, not my shirt!” 

“Suit yourself.” Derek shrugs.

“Maybe I won’t bring out ‘Stiles’ Fun—’”

“If you call it that, I’ll be fine with it staying exactly where it is.” 

Stiles pulls back and gives him a look. “Would you now?” 

Derek doesn't falter, but Stiles _knows _he’s just the _slightest _bit scared Stiles is going to take him up on that dare. Laughing, Stiles rolls off him. 

~~

Stiles likes to allow Derek to choose any toy he wants as a part of foreplay, and it’s never just the biggest, baddest because Stiles has realized, Derek is in no way a size queen. He gets a cute frown and he chooses whatever he’s into that day, and sure, there are some he goes for more than others, but there’s not one thing in there that he hasn’t chosen himself at least once. 

As they’d started using toys, Stiles had gone for slim, slender, and small mostly not to scare Derek out of giving them a go. Since then, Stiles has worked up a healthy obsession with things that are _pretty. _Nothing he owns is for pleasure or feeling alone, no, Stiles likes when they’re nice to look at, too. And he has definitely increased widths and lengths. Derek takes anything Stiles wants to give him with wide eyes and eagerness. 

Because Stiles likes them nice-looking that also means they usually come in pretty casings and pouches. So, when he leans down over the bed now and drags his _magical fun box_ out, it’s the most wonderful experience just to _open_ it up.

“Come here, Der, let’s find you something nice.” Stiles props the box up against the pillows on _his _side of the bed and clicks the lid open. Derek comes up behind him, captures him with legs around each of his, chest against Stiles’ back and hands reaching forward to scavenge the contents. And there are many things to choose from. There is everything from small, non-sexual looking vibrators to glass dildos to different kinds of lube to intricate plugs. Derek likes plugs. Stiles thinks it’s because they’re never _enough_, so Derek literally edges himself with choosing them. He also likes it the best when Stiles actually fucks him, so plugs always remind him what is to come. (Usually, both of them.) Derek lets his fingers slide over one now, and he picks it up as Stiles strokes a hand down his thigh. 

“You like that one, don’t you?” Stiles says, leaning down and twisting back to look at him. 

Derek turns his gaze to him, eyebrow rising a little. “I like how you make me feel with it.” 

Stiles is positively sure he’ll never get used to Derek treasuring him just as much he treasures Derek. “That’s nice,” he says thinly and Derek grins slightly before putting it back down and picking up something else. 

~~

Whenever Stiles buys a new thing, he has made it a tradition to place whatever it is on the corner of Derek’s bed for him to find and explore alone before Stiles asks if they can use it. Most times, Stiles shows a lot of patience and restraint because he usually puts them there when he’s about to head off home and he has had them lying in his bag for the like _two whole days _he’s been at the loft and he’s dying to try them out. It’s a good thing, to keep himself from just jumping into it, and he knows Derek actually looks and feels them nowadays. Not in front of Stiles, unless they’re doing something together, but on his own. Stiles is pretty sure he hasn’t started _using_ toys on his own, but it’s not so much a question of _if_ he will as much as it is a question of _when_.

A month after they officially started going out, Stiles had bought pastel blue BDSM rope and then talked himself out of showing it to Derek. He’d bought it too early, despite Derek’s fantasies to be tied up and edged, they were new to the scene, and Stiles realized he needed to keep his cool for Derek’s sake. He let it lie in his own closet for a couple of months before he brought it over and placed on Derek’s bed with a note that said: “Baby blue for my baby boy.” He thinks it's maybe a little too gender-normative, but blue is their combined favorite color so sometimes he just has to let feelings win over crushing stereotypes. At least, the ribbons they were already using were yellow and pink. 

Derek had liked the rope, thankfully. He’d texted Stiles almost immediately after Stiles had left, wondering when Stiles was coming the fuck back. 

Some evenings when they’re not particularly in the mood (or have been in the mood twice already) they practice. Mostly, it’s Stiles trying different ways to tie Derek up by following YouTube tutorials and perfecting the tightness of which he ties his knots. It’s fun, they talk about other random stuff and laugh when things don’t go as planned. Although, more than once, Derek has _begged _to be fucked once Stiles has finished his latest creation and Stiles just can’t seem to deny him. They’ve only ever done real tie-downs a couple of times, and just once where Stiles has not fucked him within the hour. 

Today, Stiles plans to change that. “Do you want to hear my plan?” he asks as Derek while dragging his nose against his cheek. The transparent glass plug in rose pink that he has chosen stands on Stiles' bedside table, and Stiles' eyes it as he speaks. It's a pretty standard size, not too big, cone-shaped and the flat surface has a flower inside so it is very pretty in use as well. 

Derek sits with his back against the headboard with Stiles in his lap, looking like he's already stripped naked and forced to be still even though the ropes lie on the pillow and he's wearing all of his clothes still. He cranes his neck to the side to allow Stiles to reach his ear without having to work much himself. Stiles bites down on his lobe and Derek only responds with a sharp "tell me" when Stiles hums at him to answer. 

"Don't be rude, baby." He lets the words tickle over Derek's skin like a promise and he can feel Derek draw for breath. 

"Please," he adds, a little forced when they're just starting. Stiles isn't going to mention it. 

"Well, you see," Stiles starts and drags his hands up under Derek's shirt. "I have only tied you to yourself before but with this new bed you've gotten, I can actually tie you to it instead. I've been thinking about that, fantasizing about that, and I am sure you have to, right, Derek?" 

Derek huffs and Stiles tells him to answer with words. "Yes," he says then. "I've thought about it." 

Stiles kisses his cheek lightly and drags a hand over his nipple. "Good, and have you liked that thought?" 

Derek nods, Stiles' lips catching on his cheek as he does so. He catches himself before Stiles has to remind him, and he says yes again. 

"How wonderful, Derek, my sweetest." Stiles smiles against his throat as he groans, then drags both hands around to Derek's back, just letting his fingertips travel along his skin, feeling his muscles. "Then my plan is this: We are going to have a long, slow, and agonizing make out session where we do all the regular stuff; get you worked up, naked, and you can touch me however much you like. When you're hard and compliant, you will be such a good boy you will tell me that you want more and ask me to give it to you. You will be polite about it, or we won't have nice things. I am a sucker for you so I'll give you everything you ask for and everything I know you need. 

You will give control to me and you will not, I repeat, will _not _try to hurry things along. I am a patient man and for this part, you will be too. I'm going to lick your tight little hole until you're dripping and a moaning mess for me, until you cannot lie still because you need more, and then I'll use my fingers, letting you hold the plug so you know what's coming. I'm going to ask you to lick the toy wet and you will do it. You're going to beg me to push it inside you and you're going to let me do it when I deem the time right. I will leave you like that and just sit back, maybe talk to you. Ten minutes, maybe more, cooling down and adjusting. You're going to be frustrated and I will tell you that we are only just starting and, baby, then I'll tie you up. 

Your hands are going either way like Jesus on the cross, but I'm going to have you sitting, knees wide apart, plugged up and no way of getting friction anywhere it really counts. You'll be facing the room. I will suck your cock to the inch of your life and if you come, I will be so undeniably disappointed."

Derek's breath has gone into a labored shake and Stiles has his hands firmly on his waist. Just talking about it has them both hot and hard. Derek whines when Stiles kisses his chin, stubble prickling his lips. He's going to enjoy the burn of it later. 

With a smile in his voice, Stiles continues. "And this is where things will get very interesting." 

"It already is," Derek murmurs, deep and husky and Stiles hushes him.

"Because this is where I leave you and the bed. I'll leave you tied and hard and begging and yearning. Who knows what I'll do? Make some food? Study? Clean the kitchen? It doesn't matter. All that matters is that I will have my pretty boy tied up and ready for me to claim him whenever I please. It'll probably take me a while, I have a lot of homework. An hour. Two? I will need a couple breaks and if you're being good, I will use those precious minutes on you. But I will build you up, up, up, and never let you come down. I might even get myself off just by the sight of you. Then, eventually, you're going to be begging for it so much that I will put my things away and I will get undressed and come back to you, untie you, take the pretty little plug out and fuck you, touch you, 'til you make a mess all over yourself. With my permission, of course." 

Stiles takes Derek's chin between his fingers and turns his head to face him. "What do you think about that, baby?" 

Derek looks like he's a few seconds away from coming already, and he forces out, "Sound good."

"Anything you want to change?"

"No."

"Anything you want to add?"

He shakes his head.

"Derek."

He sighs dramatically. "_No_."

"Good boy." Derek makes a sound, a combination of approval and disapproval. Stiles loves that little noise. He slaps Derek's thigh once and gets up. "We start in an hour. Have a snack and a shower and I'll make all of your wet dreams come true." 

~~

Stiles touches every part of Derek's naked body that he can reach, from the back of his knees to the top of his head, all the way out to his fingertips. He sucks on Derek's lower lip and Derek presses his hands against Stiles's back to somehow flush them even closer together. "Stiles…" Derek whispers and Stiles attacks his neck instead when he moves his head back.

"Derek?" Stiles says simply because he'll need a lot more than that to move this along.

Derek notices and understands so the next time he opens his mouth, a quiet, "Sir?" slips out. 

Stiles hugs him close and finishes a purple hickey before leaning back. "Yes, baby?" he responds in his lulling voice. 

Derek stays quiet, although though his body speaks for him. He can't seem to keep his hands still. "I…" He swallows; Stiles feels it in his lips. "I was thinking…" 

Words are hard for him, Stiles knows, so he continues touching him, kissing his neck, not forcing him to look at him. "What did you think about, baby?" 

With his fingers spread on Stiles' chest, Derek pushes back to look at him. His gaze flickers and falters but just that he wants to look at him is more than good enough for Stiles. "I would like it… if you… I mean, if _you _want to…" 

"Nuh-uh, baby, I know what I want. What do _you _want?" 

Derek grimaces, but his features soften out quickly enough. "I want more. Please." 

Stiles kissed his lips softly and moves his hips against his. "Ah, I think I need a little more… specific, baby." Derek whines, not the sexy type but a cute one regardless, and he tenses up. Not wanting him to shut down, Stiles kisses him again and grabs his ass. "There's no hurry, baby." And when Derek whines again, Stiles says he's just _being_ a baby. 

Derek adjusts his arm and moves so that he's more on top of Stiles than the other way around. Close to Stiles' ear, he says, "I want you to lick me, sir, make me feel as good as only you can with your tongue on me." It's a cohesive sentence without hiccups or faltering. Stiles sucks in a massive breath before grabbing Derek's face and pressing harsh kisses on his mouth. 

"You wonderful, wonderful man, I am so proud of you, my _god, _you're so _amazing_." 

Derek laughs, surprised and tension-releasing. "Only for you," he says. 

Stiles pushes away from him and Derek only has to let himself slide down on the mattress to lay on it flat on his stomach. "I'm going to take such good care of you, don't you worry, Derek. I'm going to give you everything you want." 

With his face hidden in the sheets, Derek preens, smiling and trying not to. "Just want to be yours to play with." 

"Oh, I will play with you, alright." Stiles gets up and takes his pants off so he's just in underwear. Looking down at Derek, his ass on beautiful display, arms folded to make a little hole for his head to fit inside, Stiles almost wants to just take him then and there. But he has promised Derek prolonged pleasure—or lack thereof—so he only straddles his thighs and squeezes his cheeks with firm hands. "You know I love seeing you like this." 

"Yeah?" Derek asks. Stiles can still hear him smiling. 

"Yeah, can't wait to give you exactly what you want, what you ask for." He leans down and kisses between Derek's shoulder blades, licking and nipping at his skin as he travels downwards. Every little move drives a short gasp or a pleasurable twitch of his body until Stiles kisses his ass cheek and Derek is arching into it. 

"Please," he says.

Stiles ghosts his lips over Derek's hole, breathing puffs of hot air on him. "Please, what? Please, who?" 

Derek presses up and Stiles presses him back down. "Please, _sir_, will you p-please… _lick me?" _

He says it with a tone, but it's good enough for Stiles. He swipes his tongue over Derek's rim, light and easy and not enough. "Like so?" 

Derek barely breathes. "Yes, more, please…" 

"If you relax first. Take a breath. I'll be right here with your reward."

It takes him less than a minute and Stiles he's not even forcing himself because he turns his head to the side and lets Stiles see his calm face. "Good," Stiles encourages him, "so good." Derek's flesh tastes like warmth and smells faintly of soap when Stiles licks him again. This time, he makes sure to do it properly. Derek curses under his breath and Stiles licks him again, slowly, wet and with enough pressure to push a short moan out of Derek's parted lips. "You just tell me what you want, darling Derek, and I'll give it to you." 

He's being mean, he knows it, but Derek just nods and lets Stiles do his thing for a while, moaning and arching with each careful lick. "More," he whispers then, "harder, just— Just the tip, please, please." 

Stiles smiles and complies. He dances the tip of his tongue around the ring of muscle, making him dripping wet before pushing into him. Derek is completely lax under his fingers, his tongue, but he whimpers loudly, again and again, as Stiles continues dipping his tongue into him.

"Stiles— Fuck—" It's barely words but Stiles understands. Derek loves this part. He loves all the parts, but there is something particular with this that really gets him going. Stiles lays a hand on his ass, beneath his hole and lets his index finger join his tongue, exploring and pushing lightly. Derek's body twists in pleasure but he forces himself not to move away. He must know Stiles won't go chasing his ass. Stiles stills his finger.

"I'm getting ahead of myself; you haven't asked for this." He wiggles it playfully, not really inside him.

Derek draws for breath. "No, no, it's great, please, thank you." 

Stiles chuckles. "You want my finger too, then?"

It takes a couple of quiet seconds, but Stiles realizes it's because Derek had to psych himself up when he responds "I want you to do that, with your finger too" rather than a simple "yes." 

Stiles moves the tip of his index in and out of him, bending it slightly and finding little resistance. "Can you reach the bedside?" he asks when Derek quiets after a long moan. He adds his tongue to his finger before Derek can answer so Derek just whines and reaches a heavy hand out.

"Take your toy."

He fumbles but finds it, snapping it into his chest quickly so he can focus back on having his ass played with. 

"I want…"

"What do you want, baby?" 

Derek swallows thickly. "Can I… move a little?" 

"Move?" 

"Position."

"Oh." Stiles grins and pulls away to let him do whatever. "If you want." 

"I want to." 

With copious amounts of effort, Derek drags himself upon his knees, shooting his ass into the air and his face only a few inches off the mattress, almost in a praying sort of pose. "Look at you, baby," Stiles says, admiring him. "Now you can suck your toy and get your ass eaten." 

Derek's back flames red and he doesn't turn his head to look back at Stiles but he nods. "Please," he says, "I want you to tell me what to do." 

"Be a darling and get your little toy closer to your face." 

Derek presents the plug from one hand and holds it still, the top of it facing his mouth from the bed. Normally, Stiles would want to fuck his mouth with it for a little bit before pushing it into his hole, but since it is glass, it's better if Derek has the reins so they won't accidentally knock out or crush a few teeth. 

"You're going to get it nice and wet for me. No slobbying around, you know how I like it, don't you, Derek?" 

"Yes," Derek says. He glances back at Stikes who watches him. "Will you continue?" 

"When I see you're doing what I want." Stiles nods at the plug and Derek turns back to it. Not having to look at Stiles while working with toys is easier for him, Stikes knows, but it always takes a little time to get him excited about it. "Lick just the tip first, baby." 

Derek huffs and groans and clenches his jaw.

"Is it cold?"

"Don't know. Not in my hand." 

"Try with your tongue." 

Derek breathes out and lets his head drop slowly. He darts his tongue out and moves his head to touch the surface. "Cold," he nods. 

"Do you like it?" 

"Yes." 

"Can you imagine just how warm you'll make it when I push it inside you?"

He shudders. Breathless, "Yes." 

"Try it again, from the base." 

Derek does as told, licking a long stripe from the widest part of the plug to the tip.

"Good boy," Stiles praises and slips his finger back onto Derek's pink rim. The action makes Derek hunch his shoulders and presses his ass further up into the air, and he doesn't need directions to put his lips against the toy. "Look at you," Stiles gushes, playing with his finger in quick, shallow pushes. "Do you think it can fit in your mouth too, Derek? Do you dare to try? You don't have to, especially if you're scared." It's not a huge plug, but it isn't entirely easy to tell whether or not it will fit. 

A little bit at a time like a skilled blow job, Derek fucks the toy into his mouth, moaning around it. Stiles forces himself to look away and get working in making him feel as good as he possibly can with fingers and mouth. 

He spends a long time letting Derek play with the toy until Derek pats the bed with one hand. Stiles looks at him and when he gives him space, Derek twists around to his back, arching, with the toy plugged into his mouth, looking like he's choking on it and loving it. Stiles crawls up and sits lightly on his chest, a hand wrapped around his jaw.

"Open up, baby. Be still." Derek takes a deep breath through his nose and lets Stiles pull the plug from between his lips. Stiles does it with great care not to hit teeth. Puppy eyes stare up at him. He's so amazing. 

When Stiles has it safely in his hand, he pats Derek"s cheek. "There you go." 

Derek coughs and breathes heavily, continuing to stare at Stiles wide-eyed. "I want it inside me." 

"It was just inside you," Stiles chuckles but he gets the lube and makes sure to coat the plug plenty before teasing to Derek's already wet hole. 

Derek draws a harsh breath, staring Stiles down. "Was I good?" 

Stiles smiles and pets Derek's body while bobbing the plug against him, breaching into him easily the first inch. "Yes, baby, you were absolutely brilliant. My best boy." Derek nods, eyes glossy. Stiles can't wait to make him feel even better. He works the toy back and forth while Derek adjusts, presses against it and relaxes around it until he only has to give the rose a little push and the whole glass wand disappears inside him. Derek moans, a long, outdraw thing from the pit of his stomach and Stiles pushes on the flat surface of the plug a couple of times, knowing Derek responds to it. 

And responds he does, with small eager whines and rocking his hips on a dildo or a cock that isn't there. Stiles could probably watch him wither for a few hours without a problem. But instead, he sits back on the bed leaning against the footboard. "You look amazing."

Derek's chest flushes, he opens his eyes and looks down at Stiles, his body and cock twitching with need. "Don't stop," he says and it's the whiniest plea Stiles has ever heard. 

"Oh, I have already stopped." Snuggling back against the covers, Stiles only holds up a finger when Derek moves a hand to touch himself. With a huff that widens his nostrils very cutely, Derek puts his hands back down on the covers. "No touching until I say so."

"But—"

"No, darling. Take a breath." 

Derek takes a deep breath with reluctance painted across his entire face. Stiles inspects his nails and grins. Derek whines and does nothing. 

The promised ten minutes are long, even for Stiles and they do not do anything to calm either of them down. If Stiles is being completely honest, it just makes them both harder.

Derek breathes in slowly through his nose and even slower through his mouth. "Stiles," he says when their prolonged eye-fucking is surely killing him, "I… need you, _now_." 

"My-oh-my, Derek baby, getting a little needy? Greedy?" Stiles smirks and gets up, picking the ropes off the pillow. "A shame we're only just starting." 

~~

“Stiles.” 

“Mhm? 

“I think I’ve made a mistake.” 

“Mhm?” Stiles says again. 

“Yeah, this is horrible.”

“You said that last time too.” 

“I know, but—” 

“And you remember what you said afterward?”

“Yes…”

“Tell me what you said, baby.” 

“That it was possibly the best experience of my life.” 

Stiles throws a look over his shoulder, just catching him in his peripheral. He sits on his haunches, knees wide apart, arms tied rather stiffly to each side like a sloping T. It's positively pornographic. Stiles has repeatedly told himself he has to hold himself from going over there. He clears his throat. “And…?”

“I said I couldn’t wait to do it again.” 

“Mhm.” 

“But—”

“Hush, baby.” 

“Please.”

“You’re doing great, but you have to be quiet for me. I’m studying for my final.”

“It’s your last, isn’t it?” 

“Yep.”

“So it’s really important and—”

“Derek, darling, I’m not untying you.”

Derek whines a little and Stiles hushes him again without looking over. 

~~

“Cubs,” Derek says. Their middle safeword, when Derek doesn't want to stop exactly, but something is still off. Stiles turns to him from his seat at the table and nods. Derek continues, “My legs really hurt.”

Stiles checks his one and a half-hour timer which tells him it's twenty minutes left. He cocks his head at Derek. “And your arms?”

“They’re okay.”

“Den,” Stiles says, closing their safe-communication circle. He gets up and walks over to Derek on the bed and pushes his jaw out. “I’m only untying your legs, darling, and I’m doing it because you’ve been so good for me so far.”

Derek preens, straightening his back. “Thank you. I’ll continue to be good, I promise.”

“You promise? Well, then maybe I’ll allow you to chose however you want to sit. Would you like that?” 

Derek nods vigorously. “Please.” 

“Please, who?” 

Derek tenses his jaw, his cheeks flush. “Please, _sir,_” he still says. 

Stiles makes quick but careful work of the knots tying his legs down. He holds Derek around the shoulders and Derek adjusts to extend his legs, groaning at the effort. "Doing good, baby." 

Derek groans again and lies down on his back, making sure not to let the toy touch the bed. 

"You know exactly what I want, don't you? Gosh, you make me so proud, baby." Derek looks like he hates it and loves it and Stiles smirks at him. "Maybe I'll make you feel a little good, huh?" He kisses his way down Derek's chest to his red-marked thighs. The ropes have burned stripes into his skin, making the look ridged and feel bumpy against the tip of his tongue. Derek gasps when Stiles spreads his legs to get down between them. He pushes his tongue against the rose between his cheek. Derek moans. With as little pressure as he can, Stiles kisses up his cock, licking the precum from the head and takes him in his mouth. Derek pulses harder and harder as Stiles runs his mouth up and down, barely pressing his lips against him. He hears the ropes being pulled, stretched with a low whine and he looks up to see Derek clench his fists, eyes closed, hips high. Stiles pulls off him quickly. "You're not coming, are you?" 

Lips pressed together, Derek only shakes his head. 

"Almost, huh?" Stiles pushes away from his thigh. "I guess I'll have to continue later, then."

"No, no, no, please…"

But Stiles is already gone.

~~

"Sir," Derek says and Stiles knows it's just to butter him up. "Can't you pay attention to me?" 

Stiles pauses reading on his computer—an article about the financial outlook in Switzerland—to instead pick up a pen to doodle in his notebook, not even answering. 

"Hello? Stiles?" His voice has gone normal, concerned. Stiles turns just ever so slightly towards him, making sure he knows he's listening, and Derek's play voice comes back needier. "Please, just for a little bit. I'm— I want— I need you, so much, I am so…" 

"Shush."

"But I'm so lonely, all by myself over here." 

"Be quiet, baby." 

"If you would only—"

"I'm not—" 

"_Pleaseeee_." 

Stiles laughs quietly. “I love you, Derek, but—”

“You _love_ me?” 

Stiles snaps his head up. Fuck. Why does his brain-to-mouth-filter have to have such a monumental hiccup like this? He looks over at Derek, looking just as fucking wrecked as he sounds. Stiles panics; he tries to respond, say anything, but the words get stuck. Finally, he manages to press out, “Cubs.”

Derek nods, sobering up quickly, but his eyes look shiny, he breathes shallowly. 

“Do you want to stop? Talk about this or something? I obviously hadn't planned to tell you that when you’re tied up and I wasn’t even looking at you and—”

Derek quickly shakes his head. “I want to keep going. Let me be here for as long as you want. I want you to… tell me more times, in your ‘good boy’-voice. Den.” Derek closes the circle like there's nothing more to talk about. Stiles stares at him. He looks wide-eyed and yearning like this is a layer of them that he’s been wanting to have forever. Stiles swallows and takes a breath. Tries to ground himself with the fact that Derek wants this, and it’s highly effective. So, he sits back, rewinds the tape, and this time, he looks Derek in the eye before he speaks.

“Of course, baby, I love you.” The tone is enough on its own to send Derek back into the right mindset, but the words seem to also drag him desperate. 

“Please,” he says, practically bouncing, “come kiss me?” 

Stiles smiles softly at him. “Just for a minute,” he warns as he makes his way over. 

“Yes, okay, okay, thank you.” 

“My pleasure, babe.”

It’s insane how large Derek’s eyes can go. “Really?”

Stiles crawl over to him, cradling his face. “Yes, kissing you is one of my favorite things.”

Almost shyly, Derek says, “Mine too.” Stiles leans in and ghosts his lips over Derek’s, earning himself a quiet whine. Derek tries to move forward to press them together but his bound hands stop him, and Stiles doesn’t let him. “Please.” 

“Hush, baby. Be still.” He licks the seam of Derek’s lower lip. Derek obediently stays still, breathing harshly through his parted lips, and when Stiles pulls back, he looks like he’s going to go on a murder spree at the same time as he looks like a sad puppy. It’s slightly crazy, but it makes Stiles giggle and leans in to kiss him properly. 

Stiles is mean enough that he lets the kissing turn into another blowjob that he leaves unfinished. He also gets his own shirt off and jerks himself off to completion onto his stomach as Derek watches. That leaves Derek breathless and even whinier when Stiles leaves to clean up and only sits down to keep studying as he comes back.

~~

Derek starts crying when Stiles brings him up to the edge with his tongue again, seventh time today after Stiles slaps him for pleading to be allowed to come. He has sobbed before, tears have streamed, but he has never looked like this. Never sounded like this. Stiles sits back and looks at him, feeling terrible that he’s crying because he wants Derek to always and forever to be happy. But the fact that Derek isn’t using any of their safewords means that he _enjoys_ it, _wants_ it, and so it also makes Stiles feel like he has accomplished something amazing. 

“Don’t cry, Der Bear,” Stiles says and cups his face with his hand. It is the first time Derek doesn’t scold him for using that pet name; he usually gets pissy even when they’re deep in play. Derek looks at him, or at least tries to through all the tears he can’t wipe away—Stiles does it for him—and he just looks fleshed open. “You’re doing so good, baby, you don’t have to cry.” 

All of him trembles when he opens his mouth and through a sob says, “I just want to…”

“I know you do, baby,” Stiles says and scratches at his neck, earning himself a couple of whimpers through the tears. “But we’re not there just yet.”

“When?” Derek asks airly. 

“I tell you when, don’t worry.” Derek breaks down again, dropping his head. Stiles makes his voice go sharper. “I will make you feel good, Derek.” 

The effect on Derek comes scarily fast. He snaps his head up and looks to try hard not to cry when he responds. “I know,” he rushes out, “I know, I’m not saying I don’t think you will, I—”

“Easy, easy,” Stiles cooes and pets Derek’s face. Derek leans into the touch as if it will make him come undone. At this point, Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if it did. But Derek just breathes, large breaths in, slowly out, calming himself and yawning every once in a while as Stiles just strokes his hands over his cheek and hair. “You’re not gonna fall asleep on me, are you?” Stiles laughs. 

“I think that’d be physically impossible.” 

“You’re doing so great, you know that?”

Derek nods. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, you’ve never been this perfect, and you’re always so good for me.” 

“Th-thank you.”

“Thank _you._” Derek averts his gaze, color rising to his cheeks. “You’re so pretty, Derek. I like you blushing.” It makes him blush harder, but he throws Stiles a careful look under his eyelashes. 

“I’m just pretty to you ‘cause you love me,” Derek teases. 

Stiles feels his chin drop in baffled amazement. “Are you telling me that if I wasn’t in love with you, I wouldn’t think you’re pretty?” 

Derek’s lips twitch like he might smile very big or start crying again when Stiles says “in love with you.” But yet he says, “No, I don’t think you would.” 

Stiles pushes at his shoulder. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, Derek!”

“‘Stupidest’ isn’t a word.” Stiles slaps him. Derek gasps, looks down, and tries to move his hands but doesn’t get very far. “I’m sorry,” he says. 

Stiles bites his own lip. “I’m trying to make a point, Derek, so listen carefully.” Derek nods, doesn’t look up. “And look at me, baby.” He breathes out slowly before raising his head again. His eyes have watered, but he isn’t crying. Stiles smiles softly at him. “You’re beautiful, baby. You know what I thought the first time I met you? That you were a god. That you were the most beautiful man I had ever seen. That I was tasting a piece of heaven when I kissed you. I wasn’t in love with you then. I don’t believe in love at first sight. You know when I thought I was in love with you? When I came here and realized you’d slept with someone else. I thought: this is the worst day of my entire life because heaven doesn’t want me. And it took me another couple months to realize that that wasn’t love. It was selfishness. When I wanted to keep someone that might not want to keep me, and desperately wanted him to. Love came over me, for real, when I looked at you one day and realized that I knew you. Your favorite color. How you got interested in art. That you cry to Disney. About your family. That you hate spiders and chili and fire and you love tacos and wolves and quiet. Your passions. Your good sides, your bad. And you know what I realized? That me loving you, has nothing to do with me. It’s all you, Derek. Everything about you is loveable and I’d love you even if you’d kick me out and you’d hate me, or if you fell down some stairs and your face got mushed up, or you stopped working out, or you never wanted me to touch you again, because you are never gonna stop being you, and _that_, that’s what I love.”

Derek gapes at him. Like a little baby bird waiting for food, and Stiles keeps looking at him. Finally, he starts churning his mouth, and he stumbles over Stiles’ name, but Stiles puts a hand over his mouth and while staring him down, reaches for the rope tying his left arm down. 

“Shh, you don't say a thing, babe, because now I’m going to fuck you into oblivion.”

Derek’s whole body spasm and his breath hitches. “_Fuck._” 

~~

Because Stiles likes research and because Stiles got really into sex when he met Derek, Stiles has not just explored Derek. He hasn’t explored _anyone_ else, but the_ internet _has joined him many nights. That’s why he knows that the position he maneuvers Derek into, after untying him and making sure his arms are alright, is called “The Glowing Juniper.” Derek lies on his back, hips up, Stiles sitting with his legs straight so that Derek’s head is just between them, and Derek’s thighs stick out on either side of Stiles’ hips, his knees bend so his feet droops down onto the mattress. It’s a very good position to cherish him. 

Derek looks at him. It’s one of Stiles’ favorite things really, and he looks back. “I love you,” Stiles says, in his “good boy”-voice as Derek had asked. Derek preens up at him, nodding and sucking his lips into his mouth. “Gonna take this out,” Stiles continues and taps the plug. “Be a good boy and help me, will you?” Derek nods again and when Stiles pulls, Derek makes sure it slips out of him with ease. “Perfect, baby, just _perfect. _Now you want my cock, don’t you?” 

“_Yes_,” Derek breathes. “Been fantasizing about it all day.” 

“All day, huh?” Stiles says and strokes his hand down Derek’s chest. “That’s a long time.” 

“Hours,” Derek nods.

“And you’ve stayed here, all wet and spread for me, have you?” 

“Yes, for you.” 

Since they only fuck each other and Derek always likes a mess, Stiles asks, “Do you want me to fuck you raw?” 

“_Yes._”

“Do you want me to press all my cum deep inside you? And when it drips out, plug you up again so it stays?”

“Oh, fuck, yes yes yes—" 

“I’ll give you anything you want.” 

“You,” he says, and then, he repeats it. “You, you, you, Stiles, just you.” 

Stiles coats his hand in lube and jerks himself off for a second to get slick and ready. Moving his hips forward, hand around the base of his cock, he pushes the head easily into Derek. Derek looks like he’s gonna cry again, but he only sobs. Stiles dries his hand off against the sheets, then wraps his arms around Derek’s hips, waist, his hands fitted against Derek’s sides. “You just enjoy yourself, baby, okay?” 

Derek nods, anticipation streaking his face. Stiles brings him down, all the way to the base. Derek wails and bends his head back almost enough so that it looks scary, and he grips the sheets with one hand and the side of Stiles’ leg with the other.

“Gonna go so slow, build you up for so long.” 

Shaking his head, Derek says, “Please…”

“Maybe even see if you can come untouched...” 

“No,” Derek whines, “no, please, please…”

Stiles smirks and pushes Derek away slowly, cock sliding almost all the way out of him before he stops, and brings him back towards himself. “You don’t want that? Don't think I can make you feel that good?”

“Stiles—” 

“Yes, baby boy?” 

Derek drags a ragged breath at the pet name. “Please.” 

Stiles asks again, “Please, what?”

“Please, I—”Stiles slides him away and back down”—need you, I want you so badly.”

"Shh, shh, don't worry. I've got you." Stiles sets up a slow rhythm, thrusting forward and pushing Derek down towards him at the same time, dragging long luxurious whimpers and moans from Derek's throat. He has twisted his head into the sheets, and there's a line between his eyebrows from him frowning in pleasure. It's the kind of sight Stiles could hold out for a long time just to keep plastered on his face. But he knows Derek is on the edge of everything, so he picks up the pace and makes sure to fuck him as well as he possibly can. Derek murmurs small pleads and encouragements. Stiles untangles an arm from him, adjusts so he can thrust his hips and still get a good stroke in and wraps his hand around Derek's cock. 

"Fuck—!" 

Stiles can't wipe the wonder and amazement off his own face, and he has already come twice today so he cares little for his own pleasure, so he watches Derek enjoy himself. He's the most beautiful mess Stiles has ever seen and it should be driving him mad but it just makes him calm. Seeing Derek get what he wants is precious; being the one giving it to him is holy. "Do you want to come?" Stiles asks, voice light. 

Derek flicks his eyes open and looks up at him as if Stiles instead had asked if he was hungry after a 72-hour fast. "Yes," he says in a sharp breath. "God fucking _yes_." 

The words make Stiles chuckle and instead of asking him to say the magic words, he nods down at Derek and quickens his movements. "You've been so good, baby, so you can let loose and come whenever you want." 

When the words leave his mouth, Derek goes completely rigid and tight for a second before relaxes into a pool of a man, spreading wide and deep and looking like a dream. His fingers twitch, his stomach contracts, he moans, he comes, long and hard, striping his own stomach with hot ribbons of cum. Stiles would have come himself just by the sight, but being inside him, knowing he's the one that made it happen explodes his brain and punches an orgasm out of him too. 

They fall limp against each other, Derek breathing hard and fast, eyes closed, and Stiles just needing a second to regroup before he pulls out. He was going to ask Derek if he wanted anything more but he joins non-coherent still so he makes sure they're both cleaned up and covered in a blanket. 

Derek practically disappears. He doesn’t fall asleep, but his eyes gloss over, he blinks, and then shuts them completely, he stutters and makes zero sense, he giggles, and curls in on himself, not as if to hide but as if it makes him feel even better. Stiles watches it happen, lying on his side next to him, and wondering if this orgasm was just _really _fucking good or whatever else is going on while stroking a hand up and down his arm. 

It takes him a minute before he wonders if this is what Derek’s subspace looks like. 

~~

“So,” Derek says quietly.

Stiles looks up at him. “Welcome back to reality, big guy. You good?” Derek nods, face lax. Stiles nods again. Derek falls onto his back and Stiles snuggles up to him. “So, what?” 

Derek shuffles a little, fits a hand around Stiles’ waist and pulls him even closer. “So, you love me,” he says and it’s so quiet Stiles almost misses it. 

“Obviously,” he says, grinning a little, but he sobers up as he sees Derek’s face. “I’m sorry I told you like that, though. I mean, the first time.” He runs a hand over every inch of Derek’s skin he can reach, and Derek grows goosebumps under his fingertips. 

“It was”—he swallows—“good.” 

“Yeah?” Stiles asks. Derek nods and his teeth almost rattles. “You cold?” He nods again. 

Once Stiles has covered them up, Derek says, “Made me feel _very _good.” 

“That’s good, baby,” Stiles says and kisses him. 

“I didn’t…”

He doesn’t have to develop the sentence. “You don’t have to.” 

“Okay.” However, he looks like he wants to, and that makes Stiles’ chest expand. Derek sighs. “I just… It’s hard.” 

“I know.”

“I am very glad you told me, Stiles. Everything you told me, I’m… to be honest, a bit overwhelmed.” 

Stiles refrains from commenting on the possible subspace he just came out of. “That’s cool.” 

Derek laughs, dragging a hand over his face. “That was a fucking intense emotional roller coaster.” 

Stiles smiles. “Let’s just fuck vanilla next time.” 

“You mean”—he throws a glance at his forearm as if he’s wearing a watch—”in like half an hour?”

“Mhm. I’ll let you ride me so I don’t have to work at all.”

Derek snorts. “Bet you’d like that.” 

“Sometimes, a man wants to feel pampered.” 

“You’re so stupid.” 

“Hey!” Stiles punches his shoulder. “My intelligence level has nothing to do with this!”

Derek looks at him and his face, despite his jaw and eyebrows and beard and everything, looks so _soft_. “I just want to be yours,” he says and it’s definitely his way of saying “I love you” at this stage.

With a possessive growl, Stiles rushes forward to capture his lips. “Yes,” he says hotly, “and you _are_ mine.” 


End file.
